


Reserve Setter

by DaystoDawn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2015, Drabble, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaystoDawn/pseuds/DaystoDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...if ever there was a moment to be able to freeze time god, this would be it, this would be it." -anonymous<br/>Two people away from home almost find comfort in each other. Written for SASO 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reserve Setter

**Author's Note:**

> It's smoll but it's doing it's best.

It started as all the most important things in life do, without you realizing it. You met, shook hands, and never said a word to each other from the other side of the net.

This happens two more times, only on public courts in front of an audience. Both times were hallmarked with tears. The first time from you, the second time from him (or so you've been told). The third time you meet you shake hands and stay on the same side of the net, and you stay there. For two months you stay on the same side of the net, the only setter in your year, setting to the best wing spiker in your year, before you find yourselves falling into the same bottle of cheap tequila.

That night you find yourselves falling into the same bed as well. 

Strong arms had bracketed you as Iwaizumi had moaned into the side of your neck, giving you a feeling of security even in the haze of the alcohol. You get remember how he felt inside you -how he felt around you- every night since then, and once a week you relive it. It's wonderful. As a friend and a bed partner, Iwaizumi Hajime is strong, giving and endearingly gruff. More than once he's made you laugh within his embrace, gasps of amusement mixed with gasps of pleasure, and as time goes by it becomes of the utmost importance that you do the same for him. 

He's burrowed under your sheets next to you, his chest rising and falling in a deep sleep. You smile fondly down at him, remembering the scrunched up look on his face when you chuckled at him earlier that night. 

"Oh c'mon." He'd mumbled, his hips rotating against your ass, enjoying the playful teasing more than he'd ever acknowledge, "give a guy a break." 

Your hand drifts to his face, your thumb brushing across his cheek, chasing the strip of moonlight cast from between the blinds to where it ends at his bruised lips. His eyebrows, furrowed before, relax under your touch and your heart swells.

This is the moment you wait for every night after he drifts into sleep, and it's just you and the bruises he sucked onto your body awake next to him, so much love in the room that it hurts. Each time is filed away like a snapshot in your mind, a frozen moment of perfection, of bliss. These days you try to keep your voice down while the two of you are tangled together, but he has never had such qualms, awake or asleep. He mumbled something the first time you did this, that tequila-soaked first night, and he does it now, as always.

You still let him say the wrong name.


End file.
